


Chi Darake Na Senbonzakura De Aru Nakigoe

by WorthlesswarDivision



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Aoi's a long haired samurai, Historical, M/M, Purely Love Story, Reincarnation, Uruha needs a hug!, samurai's era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:44:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7684987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorthlesswarDivision/pseuds/WorthlesswarDivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They say when a samurai keeps a promise, they tend to do everything not to break it."</p><p>Check out how a promise that ended up bloodily had a hidden secret lying ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chi Darake Na Senbonzakura De Aru Nakigoe

**Author's Note:**

> I know the the title had been a long ass "what the fuck are you saying" type because it's in romanji. But if you know the meaning, it makes a bit sense right? Writing it in english is a lot more longer and I don't know how to shorten it.
> 
> Um, so, A Cry In The Thousand Bloody Sakura Petals, see? I am awful at translating it even if it's my original title. So bear with romanji!
> 
> Oops, sorry for rambling ^ ^;  
> Hope you enjoy!

**_"They say when a samurai keeps a promise, they tend to do everything not to break it."_ **

_Do you know the story of the senbonzakura?_

The sakura petals falling one by one like feathers until they reach the clear cold water of a seemingly unending stretch of a river, floating on it in a peaceful sway with the fresh wind blowing with its might. It's uncanny how the petals seem to flow in the same rythm as the sound of the koto at the nearby shine. It's as if they aim to cover every patch of water with their pink petals like a blanket. A lone figure sat down on the bench under the sakura trees watched at the petal-covered water silently.

It's already Fall.

At first glance, you wouldn't think of anything wrong if you looked at the lone figure aside from his utter beauty. He clearly wore a man's clothing but it didn't change the fact that he's a lot more beautiful than any geishas you could find on the red light district. Ornaments unneeded since he's already purely a piece of a graceful art in the eyes of everyone. Not even the princesses of any prestigious clans who took care of their skins all day with expensive products could beat the beauty of this androgynous guy sitting lonely by the river. You'd almost think he's a deity, if not for his simple and faded yukata and not some garish kimono that you won't confuse him from being human.

But upon closer look, you'll see that there really is something wrong. His azure eyes that could allure any man and woman with just a single wink is reduced to an empty distant gaze which expresses intense sadness and longing, constantly staring past the bridge and down the water again. That perfectly bow-shaped plump lips that's so irresistible that every men and women wanted to try to steal a kiss from is now downturned. His honey blond hair that shined like precious gold under the sun and looked like luxurious silk to touch before is now disheveled and unkempt. A frown etched on his perfect face, but such frown could mean a hundred thing. He could be irked, angry, worried, in pain. . .who knows. 

Who knows.

 _Whispers. They could do nothing but whisper._ As the people passed him by, they always whisper. The villagers are whispering for quite a while now. Saying something with the others in a hushed voice every time they walk past the river. Then there were the gazes they shot at him, they'll glance at him in utmost pity. Everyone, mothers, children, fathers, patrolling officers, vendors, everyone pities him.

_  
"Isn't he the one whose lover. . ?"_

_"Shh, don't say it out loud."_

_"Poor guy, he's still young. . ."_

_"He's still waiting. . ."_

_"He's still there on that place. "_

_"Until when, he can't just wait there forever."  
_

They all knew his story, his mystery.

His misery.

But some interesting items were clutched in his pale hands, his long fingers held them tightly against his chest. An elegant long sword that only someone whose of true worth can wield and a black haori that's long enough to drape loosely over his lap, crusting patches everywhere which could easily be deciphered as dried blood on the piece of clothing. Items belonging to a warrior, a fighter who faces battles with a strong will and resolute heart. And the beauty holding them now was no warrior, but just a someone who's waiting for a vow that's been pledged in that same season where sakura danced it's way down.

_He promised._

"Uruha nii-chan, has Aoi-sama arrived yet?" A brave kid asked, the mother and the other passers-by stopped on their tracks,maybe even their breaths, as they strained to hear upon knowing what's happening.

The beauty, Uruha, didn't look away from the bridge but answered the kid nonetheless. "Not yet, maybe tomorrow."

Small hands rested on the long sword's sheath for a moment and the boy stared up at the honey blond. "But you've been waiting here for a long time now, what if Aoi-sama is not coming back? What if he's dea-"

"Shotaro! Come on here and don't pester onii-chan there." The mother immediately ushered the boy back, grabbing his hands and they walked away, leaving Uruha with a crushed heart.

_What if he's dead. . ._

Uruha of course thought of all possibilities, even the silliest ones, and even _that_. It's been a year since his lover went on that war, leading all the men with him in a high spirit, with an oath to come back once the war is over. It was a month before their village's warriors came back from the war, claiming that they won the said battle, but still no Aoi ever came back, just a familiar sword and blood stained haori returned with them. Handing it over to Uruha with sullen faces. He took it, but never accepted what everyone implied and stated boldly. He's dead.

Many tried to coax him to move on, until they all got tired. How about him? He's still waiting.

_Because he promised, once the war was over._

Perhaps, the raven is still in a war somewhere, fighting for their liberty. Or Uruha's just trying to live on that lie, that someday, his lover will return and retrieve both the sword and Uruha back. Even if he's holding a haori covered in blood, he's still waiting for the raven.

But he's tempted. God, he's tempted far too much to set himself free from the agony of waiting for, obviously, nothing. It's just a matter of time before he gave up on Aoi. He's not stupid, but the fact that Aoi's remains didn't come back had him waiting with a small hope that maybe, just maybe, the raven is still alive. And now even that hope got lost somewhere, he can't find it back. But he can't be free if he moved on, because he simply can't move on. Many dared to court him after his lover didn't return back, and even if they were all handsome and chivalrous, nothing could beat Aoi's love for him. And the same goes from him. 

This time, he'll be free, as he was fighting his own war. Finally, he had the guts to end it. As the sakura blossoms fell, he stood up and he drew the sword the way Aoi used to teach him. The koto is playing again, he smiled to himself. Maybe, it's the reason this sword even bothered to return home.

Grabbing the sword blade with his hand, not minding the way that sharp blade dug on his palms until it bled.

The first trickle of blood landing on a petal, staining it with crimson.

It was too late before anyone even noticed it, as Uruha aimed his lover's sword at himself. A defiant tear rolling down his cheek despite his efforts not to cry. And before a lady even managed to scream at Uruha's stance, 

STAB!

Thousand sakura blossoms, painted in crimson red, floating down the river in a tranquil sway. And Uruha's free again. Even when he cried in his last breath, Aoi's face never left his mind.

 

ーーーーーーーーー

Kouyou gasped, instantly waking up from an awful dream he kept on dreaming of recently. It was him but a different name that he can't even recall what, on a very historical themed background, the era of swords, and in the dream he just kept on killing himself at the end, but he could not even remember why. Heck, he couldn't remember much except that he just felt extremely depressed at something that he often woke up crying.

Kouyou cursed at himself the moment he realized it was just a dream, though it felt too real. He was reading too much history books, dammit. To the extent that he's dreaming about it. He sighed, plopping back down on his pillow again.

A grunt errupted beside him before strong arms worth of years of playing guitar wrapped protectively around his waist under the sheets. Raven head popped up from it, cracking an eye open and looking at the honey blond that's pretty much trying to sleep back.

"You had that dream again?" Yuu whispered in Kouyou's ear.

"Yeah, pretty much a nightmare." Kouyou sighed, trying not to think about it too much.

Yuu hummed, kissing Kouyou's head and cheeks. "I'm here, don't worry about it anymore. I'll be just by your side and I'll chase any of those nightmares away."

Kouyou smiled, basking in the comfort of his boyfriend. "I know. Anyway, have you thought of a good stage name for us both? " 

"Hmm, how about you're gonna be Uruha, epitome of beauty, and me as Aoi, a hollyhock. I searched those kanjis thoroughly." Yuu grinned proudly.

Kouyou didn't know how but those names sounded familiar, and he liked the sound of it. "Well, I will have that then, before Takanori and the others steal that idea." he smiled, burying his face on that chest that became his safe haven.

And he'd never felt happier than before.

 

**_"They say when a samurai keeps a promise, they tend to do everything not to break it. Even if it takes a much longer time than necessary. A monk once said that it's almost magical, how a samurai's promise could go through myriads of hindrances and still manages to be as how it was promised."_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are so much appreciated and loved! ❤


End file.
